


Trust, and Ropes

by Path



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-09
Updated: 2011-07-09
Packaged: 2017-10-21 04:32:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Path/pseuds/Path
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Spades Slick, and your partner Diamonds Droog is making way too much use of these toys. But it's not like you get much of a say in it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust, and Ropes

**Author's Note:**

> Anon on the Kink Meme requested a kinky Droog, and I have provided.

Ropes ain't so bad. You'd prefer it if he was wearing them, but it's not a big deal. Having something to struggle against- you won't admit it to most people, but you like that, and if anybody knows you better than Droog you'll eat your hat. You don't think you'll be dining on rabbit fur and silk any time soon. So you don't mind showing it to him as much as you might to somebody else, somebody who didn't watch you squirm under Her Heinous Bitch's heel, somebody who's dragged you home when your temper outmatched your capabilities.

So you're tied up and Droog can pretty much do what he wants. That's okay. Droog's a real careful parner, in all senses. He's completely aware of you, and what makes you tick (and what makes you moan). Tonight, he's bent over you, shirt stripped off, and it sort of feels like he's pulling out all the stops. He tongues you forever when he finally strips your pants off and, infuriatingly, folds them neatly over a chair. It's the best treatment your pants have ever gotten. You tell him they're not what's getting off tonight, and Droog quirks a smile and says "Didn't they just?" and you go to give him a light smack for being a smartass before you even remember about the ropes, and you spend a delicious minute testing them all again. They don't cut, don't break skin, but you push them until they do. And then Droog takes your cock in his mouth and you forget about stupid ropes.

You're thrusting your hips up against him. "Have some goddamned patience, boss," he says, voice totally untouched by spending a few minutes sucking on you. It's no effort at all to ignore him, but a moment later, he just stops entirely and walks across the room.

"Hey," you yell at him, "where do you think you're going?"

He doesn't reply, but pulls some stuff out of his briefcase that you can't really understand the mechanics of. Then he comes back and applies his mouth to your cock, so you don't really care about whatever that it, right up until he slips something over your shaft and down around your balls, and you feel it clamp down. "What the f-" you say, before he slips something into your mouth, too, metal and open, and has it buckled behind your head before you can protest or fight. Your mouth is pried open and you gnash fruitlessly at the thing.

Droog stands back and looks at you. You look at Droog, and yell horribly slurred and incomprehensible profanities through the gag, quickly cut off by a dismayed howl when you realize how trying to talk makes you drool all over yourself. Droog's smile grows a little wider. You try to blow his head up with your eyes.

That ring around your cock is... not really painful, but _present_ , not something you can disregard. It feels like your whole dick is straining at it, trying to bust free on its own. You congratulate it for the effort and try to do the same to your bonds, and Droog watches you with amusement.

And then he goes to leave. You yell more and drool on your chest. Droog turns, considers, and comes back, reaching for your cock, and you stop struggling in relief. His hand on your shaft makes you realize how hard you've gotten, just in that moment of struggling against the damn thing. But he's not stroking you. He's fastening something around you.

"If you'd just taken it and trusted me," he says, quiet over your thick breathing, "I would have just let you struggle against the ropes and come back a few minutes later." Whatever it is lies along the bottom of your shaft, clinging to it. Your cock jumps.

Droog walks to the door again, and takes something out of his pocket, presses a little button.

Oh, oh fuck, what, you try to scream, as the thing starts buzzing, one little point of vibration right below the head and one that presses into your balls. The sensation is completely overwhelming and for a minute it's nothing but harsh wet breathing through your gag and the occasional mangled "oh fuck". Droog pauses at the door, and finally says, "No, wait."

You wait, body buzzing. Your hips are in the air, cock straight and beginning to flush darkly, your legs trembling. You're drooling on your chest and your hands are still knotted behind your back. Come on come on, you think at him. Lemme out, lemme out, oh _fuck,_ lemme out...

"It's much more enjoyable to watch it all," he finishes, and takes a seat in his chair, across the room.

You are going to rip his dick off and feed it to him. You're going to piss in his eye sockets. You're going to- oh, fuck. You're going to come.

You can feel it, deep, starting to bubble up and force its way through you. Your body arches in anticipation, and then as soon as the feeling gets to that fucking ring, it just... stays. You let out a shaking howl as soon as you realize it, and look furiously over to Droog, sitting back in his chair and observing. The buzzing doesn't stop, and it's like the orgasm you almost had keeps building right behind that ring. Your limbs start to shake.

You watch, head on its side, drooling into the sheets, as Droog unzips his pants and pulls his cock out. Please let this mean he's going to fuck you, you beg silently. Even the devices he's put on you wouldn't stop you from coming then. But no, he just strokes it calmly and watches you, and you watch him and feel the sweat running off you. Another deep rumble races through you, and you throw your head back and thrust your hips into it. It pushes into the ring and stays there. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-

You will murder Droog. You will murder him and feel the blood spattering on your face and the rush of _oh god, yes_ and finally relief. Or he'll walk over and jerk himself off over you and leave white smears all over your face, and maybe then you'll finally come with a rush of _yes, oh fuck,_ and then you'll get relief, and you don't care which as long as you can fucking _finish_.

And Droog is walking over, as your limbs shake in wired exhaustion and you pant, drooling in desperation, and think only "fuck me fuck me fuck me" at him. You're completely incapable of making him do- oh, come on, come on, fuck, almost, no....- of making him do anything. He'll just do what he wants.

He touches your face. You push into it like a cat, and he trails a finger through the lines of saliva. Then he slides down to your hips and trails the same finger down to your ass as you twitch and struggle. It presses against you, and then into you, moving almost not at all. You strain and let out a train of guttural moans and throaty howls.

"Slick, for God's sake," he says evenly, finger sliding a little further in. "You are making such an embarrassment out of yourself." You can barely understand him. The entire world is centered around your cock and the buzzing that'll go on forever. It's like you stared at an eclipse and the light burned your brain out. You always were too stupid to know when to cut your losses.

His finger is in up to the knuckle, and you are maybe crying. It's too much, too fucking much. You're going to die here when your heart busts out of your chest and makes a wet splat clinging to the ceiling. Your whimpering is frantic and wet and defeated by the time Droog adds a second finger.

By the time he pulls them out and you feel his cock prod up against you, your cries are a constant, the seconds hand ticking away the minutes. Slowly, timed to your moans and twitches, he slides into you. The entire time, you're struggling inside, clenching and begging to nobody, until Droog buries his shaft inside you and your eyes go wide and you are _so close-_

You think you might have burst a blood vessel or two in your eyes. Your cock is harder than you've ever felt it and you _still won't fucking come._

Then he starts rocking into you, bizarrely and incomprehensibly gently, and when another seizure strikes you like a tidal wave and rolls through you, a moment of waving blackness follows. You are out, not sure for how long. You come to no less turned-on, with Droog's cock buried in you. Droog's taken the moment to unclip the gag, though, and you breathe easier and swallow and scrub the saliva off your jaw onto your shoulder.

He waited on the ring, though. That fucker. You can't really wrap your mind around it anymore though it still feels manifestly unfair. He touches your cock, a smile twisted into his face, and you almost pass out again. He wraps his hand around it, and the buzzing seems to sink into your skin. "Well, Slick," he says, "it's down to this. Now I know you don't know your manners, but why don't you-"

You're begging before he finishes his sentence. You still don't know manners, and even in your state of near-unconscious desire, you don't bother with "please". But obviously he likes it. His cock pulses inside you and the smile seems to stretch across his face, thinning. He strips the stuff off you efficiently and his long fingers clasp your shaft again. It feels enormous and unwieldy and painfully hard.  
He starts thrusting into you now, stroking you in time. You throw your head back and breathe and let the whole thing wash over you.

"Good show, boss," Droog mutters to you, voice tense.

"Oh, fffffffuck," you reply, and then you're coming, spurting in great arcs over your chest, and you let out a howl to match as you shudder, spasming around Droog's cock. He lets out a groan, deep in his chest, and holds your knees as he speeds up. You just collapse, every muscle stretched to razor thinness suddenly released, and your mind kind of comes off the hook for a moment.

You do observe Droog letting out a quick "Slick, oh god," before he pulls out and empties his cock over you, but by this point, you could be watching from across the room for all the effect it has on you. He trembles and collapses to your side, and for long minutes the two of you stare at the ceiling. Eventually, feeling starts to come back to your limbs.

"I told you to trust me," he tells you, softly. His voice is like coffee, one cream, no sugar.

"What do you think I was doing?" you ask. With no breath in your lungs, it's less of a demand than a rhetorical question. Droog smiles his skinny smile, and starts to untie you.


End file.
